


Spirit Lifter

by Leorge_Gucas



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: "Relationship", "friends", Alien Biology, Alien Gender/Sexuality, Attempted Sex, Bad Sex, Banter, Bitterness, Dirty Jokes, Drinking to Cope, Established Relationship, Friends With Benefits, Hand Jobs, Licking, M/M, Medical Trauma, Regret, Sexual Humor, Vomiting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-14
Updated: 2020-01-14
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:13:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22249213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leorge_Gucas/pseuds/Leorge_Gucas
Summary: haryc b'aalyc(id.) tired and emotional; euphemism for “drunk”
Relationships: Cad Bane/Jango Fett
Comments: 12
Kudos: 30





	Spirit Lifter

“I like you, Bane,” he said, as if proposing.

“You’re a good man. Real good. Even better Mandalorian maybe.”

It sounded almost sincere, like a citation of facts strung together by the whiskey stink on his breath. Cad entertained the mental image for a moment. Cad Bane clad in armor, hiding his head under beskar. He scoffed.

“You don’t mean dat.”

“I’m drunk,” Fett said. “Not a liar.”

Cad raised his brow at the jump of his voice. It reminded him of a child drinking for the first time. “You’ve had one too many for sure.” A row of empty glasses lined the bar, Cad had noticed.

“I’m Mandalorian,” Fett went on like he hadn’t said anything. “Mandalorians ain’t no liars. You be staring like yer seen a changeling. It’s me, have a look—" Suddenly his face was close, up to Cad’s. The little space between them robbed of air, leaving only Fett’s breath that stung in his olfactory glands. It smelled of booze – bittersweet. “Gosh, yer real paranoid, Bane.”

“Keeps me alive.”

“What kinda life’s that …” Fett’s voice trailed off. His gaze wandered over Cad’s face seizing him like prey. Then, he stole his hat, rested on the curls as if it belonged there. “I'll take on any job … for tha right price,” he declared, fake, gruff voice swollen with mockery. Cad didn’t have it. He returned the hat to where it belonged maneuvering Fett’s clumsy dodges with ease.

“Leave the hat,” he reminded him, gentler than he deserved – gentler than he would remind most. “And the accent,” he added.

“Drink to that,” Fett raised his glass, filled to the rim with green liquor. Cad eyed the drink and watched it trickle down Fett’s throat before he could voice his concerns.

“Twi’lek hooch. You drink it _slow._ ”

Wondrous enough Fett did not drop from his seat straight away. Pink flushed his cheeks as he realized his mistake or because the alcohol had hit his head. Cad inspected the label of a bottle before him, half-empty among a dozen others. “And dis yer not supposed to have at all ‘less you got two livers on yer.” He took in the neat little collection Fett had accumulated. Alien spirits mixed with careless abandon.

“No spice?” Cad asked. The snide of his comment was lost on Fett. “I don’t do spice.” It looked like he was pouting. Cad left it at that. The man wasn’t an alcoholic by any stretch. More so, he never drank on the job. Fate must have had his back this day, for Cad had found him before anyone with less noble intentions.

“Let’s move you to yer ship.”

He rose from his seat, offering a shoulder to lean on. Fett though had other plans. Cad felt a sharp smack on his backside, the hand fondling his ass more like an afterthought. He cursed under his breath, eyes darting around the room. His worry was misplaced. No one had noticed. It was late and the barflies still lingering where either too drunk, recounting debt or questioning life choices. Not even the bartender seemed quite there. Cad passed him a chip paying off the tab. Then he steered Fett out the door, hand still glued to his ass.

The outside was cold. Winter air whipped them in the face. A shiver ran through Fett’s body. He was dressed in civvies – a baggy tunic that hid his form under heaps of fabric. The thing was ugly as hell. It was a rare sight outside the armor that might have explained his fashion sense, or lack thereof. Cad didn’t shiver. Humans were comically defenseless sometimes, he found, though he never said it to Fett’s face knowing full well he could break his neck.

“Don’t duros get drunk?”

“We do. We just got more brains ‘bout it.”

“Must be nice,” Fett muttered into his coat as he was leaning into Cad. If he wasn’t shitfaced before, he was now. Cad had changed his mind about the ship. In his current state Fett would probably not even remember where he was parked.

The Sleight of Hand wasn’t what Cad would consider spacious but she could handle the two of them. He directed Fett towards the bunk nestled between cargo hold and cockpit. Stray parts of machinery littered their path. “You live like this?” Fett mocked him and kicked at a piece that hadn’t been in his way.

“Ain’t got no missus to clean up after me.”

The ship’s interior was gray and dusty, blank as could be. Bootprints on the floor that marked where he walked often. Cad liked her that way.

“I can see that,” Fett said. “What happened to being self-reliant?”

He scoffed. There were few things Cad got on his knees for and scrubbing the floor was not one of them. He would get the ship cleaned out next time he pulled into a port that offered the service. “Besides, I have never met a woman that would put up with you.”

“No worries,” Cad chuckled. “I dun plan on replacing you.”

With a thud Fett sat down on the bunk. There was no blanket nor anything resembling a mattress. He knew humans preferred sleeping that way – bedded on pillows and soft things. Most days Cad didn’t even bother laying down, just slept in the pilot seat. The bunk saved for those times he felt sick or otherwise impaired. And then, it was reserved for sex. Though the latter was rare these days.

“I want to suck your dick.”

Moonshine apparently made you a psychic.

“Yer in for one helluva disappointment.”

Through the jeans Fett pawed at his crotch. “I want to suck it.” Cad sighed. There was no inflection in his voice as he spoke: “You have made dat clear.”

Without warning Fett grabbed his waist pulling him into the bunk. His aim was off and it landed Cad on the edge of the bed. A sharp pain echoed through his spine. Cad sputtered a curse. While he shuffled awkwardly to correct his position, Fett had relieved him of his pants. The lack of dick not worthy of comment, maybe he had remembered what Cad looked like down there. He studied his face and wondered how long Fett was going to make it before passing out. How long they played at this game. “Lookin’ a bit green ‘round the gills, Fett, yer sure ‘bout dis?” Fett had begun to rub between his legs. It didn’t do much for him. There was nothing there. Nothing but for a sealed fold on his lower abdomen that would not open for some fingers fondling him gently. He said nothing as Fett seemed to enjoy the sensation alone. He made circles on his belly.

“How do duros breed?” Fett asked casually. For a heartbeat Cad thought he was drunk too or having a stroke. Fett wasn’t even looking at him, eyes fixed on the same part of his body. “Do your males carry the young?”

Cad stared at him, lips parted slightly. He shook his head. “Naw. Females do. Just different parts than humans got.” Somehow he felt obliged to explain to Fett why he was the way he was. As if he owed him an answer.

“It wouldn’t be an issue for you then. On the job.”

Fett had stopped with the circles instead resting his chin on Cad. He looked down at the man, running what he said through his head for the umpteenth time now. “What?” Cad said simply.

“Having children. Ever thought about it?”

“With a woman?”

This conversation sure was going strange places.

“Preferably.”

Cad didn’t bother hiding his smile. “I dun see the appeal.”

“Of women or of children?”

“Of neither.” He smirked at Fett and placed a hand on his head in silent appreciation. Fingers combed through the curls, massaging his scalp, soft and tender. Fett closed his eyes and leaned into the touch. Lips slick with saliva that soon pooled on Cad’s stomach. _‘s long as he keeps his mouth shut,_ his only thought was. It didn’t last though the next words out Fett’s mouth were more appropriate: “Want to fuck?”

Lots less to unpack here.

“Am not letting you near my ass while yer like dis.”

“I’m clean if that’s what you’re worried about,” Fett said and sounded almost sober. “Just got a checkup.”

“Dat’s the least of my concerns with you right now …”

They had both gotten tested when the hookups became more frequent. That was years ago. He trusted Fett when it came to their work – he could trust him with the fucking. And yet Cad didn’t sleep around. Work consumed most of his time. He only assumed it was the same for Fett. It irked him to think they were monogamous or something.

He didn’t object when his legs were lifted. “You’re too proper,” Fett declared. “It’s a shame.” Fingers ran down his inner thigh. Fett kissed the exposed skin on his belly. The gesture was sudden and unexpected in its tenderness. Cad stifled a moan but Fett had caught on. Tongue lolled from his mouth he covered Cad’s skin in sloppy kisses. Cad bit his lip.

“Too proper,” Fett recited between sucks and nibbles.

Just as Cad was about to ask why he didn’t move the kisses to his face a tooth grazed his belly. He didn’t think much of it. At first. Before Fett gotten the next braindead idea – to bite him without warning. The bite that was more of a chomp, its sex appeal painfully miscalculated. Followed by the sting of human teeth, too blunt to break skin, not blunt enough to ignore. Cad made a sound of surprise, one he wished he hadn’t made, then his legs kicked, out of his control. He hit Fett in the gut sending him off the bed. It felt like kicking some lifeless thing. When he stayed out of sight, Cad bolted upright.

Fett was on the ground looking more pathetic than before. He clutched his stomach with one hand. Immediately Cad smelt the nausea on him. Without missing a beat he grabbed a bucket from under the bed and passed it over – just in time for Fett to start heaving. Those split-second reflexes were rubbing off on him.

Cad remained still while Fett threw up. His aim wasn’t the best and Cad watched his shirt get drenched in vomit. He was shivering again despite the temperature on board. Cad assessed the situation: He looked about to pass out and from this angle with his face hovering inches above the bucket he would surely bust it on the metal. There was sick smeared all over his chin, his glistening eyes a giveaway.

Cad kneeled to have a closer look and took the used bucket from Fett’s hands. Promptly he pulled the stained shirt off him though he had no idea what to replace it with. He didn't have anything that would fit Fett's frame nor clothes he was willing to lend. He had never been good at this – this nurturing shit. Least Fett cooperated as he stripped him.

Yet the image that followed stopped Cad dead in his tracks.

“I told you. Just got a checkup.”

Fett looked miserable. And it was a different breed of miserable that came with their line of work.

Bandages in odd places, symmetrically almost and too perfect, applied with medical precision. Cad held his breath. A memory resurfaced perfectly preserved, his own reflection in the mirror, when he had first gotten his cybernetics and couldn’t walk for a week.

He understood now what had laid hidden under those long sleeves: Fett’s wrists were wrapped in gauze. There was a larger patch on his chest. It looked wrong.

“Clean inside and out,” Fett spat the words, a half-hearted impression.

It made sense now that he would drink himself senseless. Cad didn’t know what to say, how to comfort him. Cad Bane wasn’t a darn nanny droid. He didn’t know how to care for anyone but himself.

The silence between them stretched thinner and thinner.

“I cut a deal.”

Cad growled. “As a guinea-pig!?” His voice thundered through the ship bouncing off barren walls. There was little sense in getting angry on Fett’s behalf, he knew, not that it made him less irritated.

“As a … template.”

“A what now?”

“It doesn’t matter,” he said. What he meant was, _I’m not going to tell you._ He had that look on his face Cad knew all too well. There was no sense arguing with him.

“You might finally be the sole number one in the game, Bane. Top dog! Isn’t that something to celebrate?”

“I think you had ‘nuff celebration for tonight,” Cad sneered. “Yer retiring, Fett? Never thought I would see the day.” Some part of him still hoped it was all banthacrap. Some elaborated lie spun by the two braincells Fett hadn’t fried with Twi’lek hooch.

“Think of it as a hiatus. I’m taking a break,” he replied. “A long break.”

“Ah.”

The mood had turned sour. The silence returned. For a moment they just sat in quiet, cowering on the ground like idiots. Cad examined his gloves as if he looked just hard enough, he would find an answer written between the knuckles. He felt Fett staring. Piercing eyes that fueled his anger.

“Whataya want me to say?” Cad snapped at him. “Gonna miss having you meddle with my affairs, snatch the bounties from under my nose, mess up my plans. Yer the bane of my existence, Fett. Good riddance.”

He _was_ going to miss Fett rearrange his guts. But that he didn’t need to know.

“I wish we had met earlier.” For the first time this night they faced each other eye to eye. In a second of sober Cad might have taken him serious, almost. “Would have had my back, Cad, wouldn’t you?”

Cad stirred at the sound of his first name, not spoken aloud since childhood. It sounded wrong coming from Fett. Like a false promise. Despite, some part of him yearned to hear it again. He figured it was the same part that longed for something like partnership. A sliver of stability amidst death and destruction. Something remaining when the gun smoke settled. The universe had hardened them. Chewed them up and spit them out before they were old enough to understand. Cad had adapted, used to winning with a bad hand. They were both damned to a life in solitude with nothing but glimpses of could-have-beens.

“Darn, Fett,” he said when he had done enough thinking. “Stick dat sentimental crap up yer ass.”

“Don’t need anything in there for a while.” Fett looked at him with a pained expression. Cad huffed in forced amusement. “Serves you right for cutting such deals.”

Fett leaned forward pressing their lips together. A taste of booze and sickness washed through his mouth. Cad didn’t care. His fingers brushed against Fett’s bare chest, finding his abs soon focusing there. Fett moaned into his mouth and he took it as encouragement to let his hands wander. They were locked into their half-embrace when Cad traced the edges of another patch on his lower back. Fett froze and hissed, almost voiceless: “ _Shab—_ ” Cad’s face darkened at the insult. He feigned innocence. “Come again?”

“Ever had bone marrow taken …?”

Off limits then. He struggled finding parts of Fett that hadn’t been impacted.

“Yer dick’s still in one piece?”

He applied some pressure fondling him through the fabric of his pants. The tiniest shiver shook Fett’s body but it didn’t elude Cad. “I- I haven’t checked,” Fett managed between gasps, a mumbled attempt at humor. “Would been a waste.” Cad stripped off a glove with his teeth. “Want dat thing mounted to my wall.” His answer this time a series of moans as he slipped bare fingers down Fett’s underwear. “Tell me more,” Fett forced through gritted teeth.

“What do I know. Maybe the cockpit.” A sly smile tugged at the corners of Cad’s mouth. “Am not really into home décor.”

Fett stared back at him through half-closed eyes, lusting after the last word, that sweet victory of petty banter. “Now here’s a surprise,” he said. Cad wrapped his fingers around Fett’s erection. He ran a thumb over the head and felt it quiver. It made him shut up for a hot second. “All there.” Fett grimaced at him: “Lucky me.”

“Shut it.”

The cock hardened in Cad’s hand. He readjusted his grip and got a throaty sound from Fett in turn.

It didn’t take them long to settle for a rhythm.

Fett was grinding his hips, fucking Cad’s hand for a while. The huffs and puffs and gasps for air. He was sweet like that, needy and unapologetic. Cad cherished the sight so different from his usual. Eventually he noticed a difference in his movements turning frantic and clumsier. Cad paused and let go, followed by a teeny noise of frustration.

“Close yer eyes.”

Fett cooperated. No complaints. Maybe he was missing the strength, Cad thought, as he moved his hand, fondled his balls. The new sensation scored him a sigh.

“If you cum like dis, I ain’t got no spare pants for you.”

“Mhmhm,” Fett hummed back. Cad read it as an affirmative, his cue to continue. Not his problem when Fett woke up in the morning and had changed his mind. He could make a run for the Slave in his fucked-up clothes for all Cad cared. It wasn’t called the walk of shame for nothing.

He focused on getting Fett off. Alternating between cock and balls it didn’t take him long. A sorry orgasm, eyes still closed and more Mando’a nonsense rolling off his tongue.

Cad worked his hand free. Fett slumped against his shoulder. Snores muffled by the fabric of his coat. Absentminded he licked his fingers, cleaning them. He would stay sexually frustrated till the suns came up.

Until Fett had slept it off and remembered how his body functioned.

He stared at the sleeping human, a sight for sore eyes. Half-naked, wet between his legs, snuggled into Cad’s side – bittersweet.

**Author's Note:**

> Space cowboys on my mind, space cowboys in my heart.
> 
> I tried my hand at something sweet and this is the result.
> 
> Anyone out there still interested in this couple? Tell me!!


End file.
